


What If All This Was A Little Lie?

by zetuslapetus



Category: Good Girls (TV)
Genre: A State Trooper and his wife named Rosie, F/M, i just wanted her to lie for him this is all this is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:47:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25037986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zetuslapetus/pseuds/zetuslapetus
Summary: Rio experiences Beth's award-winning lying first hand when she has to bail them both out of a speeding ticket.
Relationships: Beth Boland/Rio
Comments: 21
Kudos: 198





	What If All This Was A Little Lie?

In hindsight, the whole thing really  _ was _ all her fault - not that she’ll ever admit it. She’s the reason they’re late, and the reason he speeds to make the drop time. It’s very unorthodox of him, she thinks, to be caught in this position. No one would assume it from looking at him, she didn't, but he’s a type-a control freak when it comes to his business dealings. 

The highway is pitch black, and he won’t tell her how far out they are so she folds her arms across her chest and settles into the leather. The street lights whiz by so quickly that it makes her a little dizzy, and even though he’s going so fast that she can’t actually relax, the lull of the car is comforting. He’s ignoring her, has been since they pulled onto the highway - not that she cares. A warm and unusual feeling of satisfaction at getting her way wraps around her as she gets comfortable. 

They’d started printing a lot more than they could clean with spas, a lot more than she knows he could clean with whatever shady side deals he had going on. She’d had her suspicions for a while now that he’d been selling a large part of his dirty cut to someone else, but every time she’d attempted to broach the subject he’d brushed her off.

_ “Stay in your little lane, Elizabeth.” _ He’d said the last time she’d prodded. 

Never had she met someone so cagey, and a part of her wishes she could drop it but that nagging feeling in her gut just wouldn’t let her. After twenty years of dropping it with Dean, she’d made a promise to herself to never do it again. That’s how she found herself in the middle of the show floor that night, arguing with him in the dark.

_ “I made this - all of this - happen, this is my money you’re selling and I - ”  _

_ “This ain’t your money, don’t forget who owns you, Elizabeth,” he sneers. _

_ That twists something deep inside of her that she ignores. That’s not a conversation she’s ready to have, not yet. Her cheeks burn but she doesn’t let up. His eyes are black, pupils blown. A surge of twisted satisfaction runs through her at the thought of getting under his skin. _

_ “When I stop printing, you have nothing,” she hisses, and steps closer to him. She has to look up to keep his eye-line. The muscle in his jaw ticks but he doesn’t break her eye contact. She’s breathing hard but her eyes are sharp and she’ll be damned if she looks away first. “I want to know where my money’s going.” _

_ It’s already dark outside and she knows he’s late, she’d pushed their time back on purpose. She knows his schedule, knows he doesn’t like to hold onto dirty money too long, knows he schedules his drops right after he picks up from her. His jaw ticks again, fury flashes in his brown eyes. Her belly twists with pride, then he’s walking around her and throwing an invitation over his shoulder through gritted teeth.  _

They’re still on the highway after some time, she shifts in her seat and looks at the blinking clock on the dash. It’s almost midnight. She turns to him, opens her mouth to ask how long when the car lights up with bright flashes of red and blue. Her heart stops and the feeling of satisfaction quickly dissipates as dread seeps into her bones. Her head snaps to the side mirror as the bright rotating lights of a cop car approach closer. 

She turns to Rio, but he’s staring in the rearview mirror, jaw locked. He signals a turn, lays off the gas, and slowly pulls into the shoulder lane. The car shakes then comes to a full stop. He quickly lifts his shirt and her eyes fall to the large handgun tucked into his jeans. Of course, he has a gun. Her heart pounds against her ribcage and she can't seem to catch her beath. 

He slips the gun out, leans across her lap, and opens the glove compartment with one flick of his fingers. She shifts in her seat, eyes the way his long fingers dance across the weapon with ease. His grip is soft, and she still remembers his words from months ago.

_ “Don’t squeeze, keep your grip solid but relaxed. Breathe.” _

She remembers the way he’d touched her when he’d shown her how to handle it, how to stand, how to breathe. He’d pointed a gun at her plenty of times, but seeing him use one was not something she’d been ready for. It was elegant, an extension of him, nowhere near as violent as she’d expected. 

He slides the gun in and snaps the compartment shut.

“Not a word, Elizabeth,” he says, finally looking up at her. 

Her mind reels - there’s a gun in the car and a quarter of a million dollars in the trunk. A quarter of a million dollars of  _ counterfeit _ money. She runs through what’s about to happen in her head, they’re going to run his name, his plates, and God only knows what they’re going to find. Then they’re going to ask her what she’s doing with him. 

He keeps his hands on the steering wheel, glances in the rearview mirror occasionally. Other than the way his jaw keeps ticking she wouldn’t know that anything was wrong. His chest moves steadily with even breaths. He looks at her again, lets his eyes drop down her body briefly before he looks forwards again. 

A body comes into view right outside the driver’s window, and two knuckles rap on the glass. Rio rolls the window down and looks up at the cop. He doesn’t speak, he just gives the cop a slight nod of acknowledgment. 

“Good evening - “ she can hear the cop begin his spiel. She can’t see his face but once she focuses she can see his uniform, it’s a state trooper. She hears the officer ask for Rio’s license, then he’s telling them how fast they were going and something in Beth snaps.  _ They can’t run his name  _ is all she can think.

Rio reaches for his back pocket, but she wraps her fingers around his wrist before he can pull his wallet out. She draws his arm into herself, unbuckles her seatbelt, and leans across his body. 

She feels Rio stiffen immediately, hears his sharp inhale at her proximity but she pushes forward. It’s October, and he’s wearing a black sweater knitted from the softest material she’s ever felt. She squeezes his forearm, feels the tense muscles in his arm and leans across his lap. It feels like an out of body experience. She's numb but she dips her head down to look out the window, then her mouth is open and she’s speaking.

“Hi,” she says in the sweetest voice she can muster. The same voice she’d used on Dean when he’d assumed she was hopeless. “I am  _ SO _ sorry,” she exhales when she makes eye contact with the trooper. He’s older, graying, and a little confused. He’s surprised to see her smiling up at him. Rio is looking at her like she’s lost it, and maybe she has.

“This is  _ all _ my fault,” she says with a pout. She’s so close to Rio that she can feel his breath in her hair every time he exhales. “I had a Big Gulp at the last stop, with extra caffeine and I just couldn’t hold it anymore. He was rushing to make the next stop - “ Beth pauses and looks over her shoulder at the lit-up truck stop within visible distance. She smacks Rio’s knee obnoxiously and lets her hand rest there. “We’re pretty far from home and I will not be able to make it,” she says with a laugh. 

Rio’s mouth opens, she can feel the muscle in his thigh tighten. He’s so stiff and she curses him internally, how is she supposed to make the trooper believe any of this when he looks like an ironing board? Rio looks up at the trooper like he’d rather be taken into custody than be breathing her in right now. The cop frowns, and Beth’s stomach dips,  _ shit _ . The dumb, helpless woman act usually works. 

She feels her cheeks flush, whether from the cold or the fear she doesn’t know. A quiet beat passes.

“I get it, my Rosie’s the same way,” the trooper finally breaks, she can hear an unfamiliar twang in his accent. Beth smiles at him again and then he’s turning to Rio. “Son, don’t let her talk you into trouble.” 

_ Ironic _ .

“Oh, I think it’s a little too late for that, right honey?” Beth smiles at Rio and squeezes the arm she’s clutching against her chest. 

Then the troopers laughing and Rio looks like he wants to murder her, the same fury from earlier burning in his eyes. 

“Ya’ll be careful now, restrooms right up there, and watch your speed,” the older man says and taps the car once before he turns back to his vehicle. Beth doesn’t move until she’s sure he’s gone. They sit there, locked in each other for a moment. She’s still grasping his arm against her chest, hard breaths forcing her breasts against him with every inhale. 

When she’s sure they’re safe, she lets go of his like it burns, the realization of how easily she’d draped her body over his shoots through her. How easy it was to slide into him, wrap her arms around him and play that part. How good it felt. How he didn’t protest. Her face burns at the thought. 

She lets out a shaky breath when she leans back into her seat and buckles up. She feels the panic slowly seep out of her body. Rio signals and pulls out onto the highway with ease. He gives her a glance but doesn’t say anything.

“You’re welcome,” she says, still staring ahead with the tiniest smile on her face. She can feel his eyes burning into her even in the darkness of the car. 

He shakes his head once, then speaks.  “You real good at that, you know?” 

She looks at him in question, frowns. 

“Lying,” he clarifies, eyes still on her. 

She knows. 

Years of the practice of lying to teachers, parents - her own included, all to make sure she and Annie were okay. She’d never stolen, no, that was a recent talent she’d discovered, but she’d been lying since she could remember.

And wasn’t that the basis of their entire arrangement? Hadn’t he started using her for that exact quality? A mom from the suburbs could steal and lie and wash cash without a second glance from anyone. She was his thin veil to the rest of the world, he’d just never expected to get so tangled in it. 

He’d meant it as a taunt but she doesn’t blink when she responds.

“Thank you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading - I am trying to write through some writer's block (tips, tricks on dealing with that?) and its the most random stuff. I am working on Viva Voce - last chapter just won't wrap itself up, its like 3k words now, out of control. Payback is almost done, and Trouble is killing me softly. So yeah :)


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